The 25 Supernaturals of Christmas
by Altsoba
Summary: Some random Christmas drabbles. Sixth one up, Candy Canes are Bad For the Brain.! Enjoy! This one needs some reviews to be continued, I know you guys are reading it!
1. Jolly Old Saint Nick

Howdy Howdy, I know, more holiday drabbles rather than finishing up some of the other stories I have... I can't help it tho, I like the holidays

This is for a LJ Supernatural Christmas Challenge brought to you by Alantie and me, if you wish to do the challenge yourself the themes are listed on my livejournal page, the link to which can be found on my profile page!

This one is for the theme of Santa

I don't own Supernatural... mebbe I will get them in my Christmas stocking, I have been very good this year!

* * *

Jolly Old Saint Nick

"Dean!"

A slight pause.

"Dean!" Another pause, punctuated by a slight shove.

"DEAN!" The whisper was nearing its breaking point, nearly a shout without crossing the slightly lower tones in between.

"Wassitsam?" Dean's response was muffled in the pillow he was attempting to cover his head with.

"Santa!" Dean barely believed the wonder his brother could still muster for the fanciful elf, out of everything they hunted for, everything they killed. Granted, Sam was still too young to be taken out on any hunts, but John worked hard to keep his boys' minds in the real world. So what if their real world happened to include most things that other people did not include in theirs.

"You mean it's morning? Presents?"

"No, Dean. I mean Santa!" Sam's voice held the unswayable note he often got when he wanted something. Something that he wouldn't rest until Dean acquiesced. "Out in the living room, right now."

Stumbling into the hallway behind his brother, the only thing Dean saw at first was their sparse tree in the living room. He would have continued on into the room until Sam's insistent hand stopped him.

"Wait," Sam's voice breathed, his eyes locked on the darkened room. "You might scare him away."

"Whatever dude," Dean breathed back, humoring his little brother. He couldn't see anything in the room beyond, no sign of movement at all.

Then, a flash or red, cutting from the hearth to the tree and back again, it was almost too fast to see. It looked almost like a swirling cloak.

Dean shook his head, not believing his eyes, there was a present under the tree. One that wasn't there before. In his mind, Dean knew there was no Santa, at least not one that ever came to visit the Winchesters. Dean had played the part himself for a few years now. But this appeared to be the real thing.

"Dude, we have to go out there!" Dean's childhood wonder came flooding back to him in a hurry.

"We can't go out there, Dean, Santa doesn't like to be seen!"

The brothers continued hissing back and forth at each other, neither of them noticing the cessation of movement in front of them.

Sam paused in his arguments, brown eyes going wide in his face. "Santa!" He managed to squeak before clutching at Dean's hand.

It took a moment for Dean to see what Sam was pointing at; he could see the red shade a few feet in front of them. Hovering in midair as if it was watching them.

"D'you see him Dean? D'you? He looks just like in the stories!" Sam's excitement crowded out any worries he might have had about frightening Santa away.

Dean couldn't see it, he could see the red cloak, but nothing more.

Sam moved out into the living room, shyly walking towards Santa while Dean watched. His brother's youthful face beamed as he reached his hand out to the elfin specter before him.

The head of the cloak turned towards Dean, a face was starting to appear before him. Its face covered in a white beard, with bright red cheeks, the picture of jolly old Saint Nick. It placed a nearly transparent finger to its lips and gave Dean a sly wink while it reached towards his brother with its other hand.

"SAM, WATCH OUT!" Dean shouted into the room, hoping to wake his father. In that sly wink Dean saw exactly what would happen if he let his brother touch the miserable thing.

Sam half turned back to Dean before the Santa creature shot out a clawed hand and grabbed his shoulder; yanking the surprised child back towards its mouth which had become a gaping maw waiting for young flesh to enter.

Dean found himself across the room quick as a flash, tearing at the malicious sprite with everything he had.

Hair tousled, John burst into the room at the sound of his children's shouts, shotgun in hand. He couldn't see anything in the room, just Dean and Sam struggling near the Christmas tree. "What the hell Dean?"

Gasping for air Dean finally managed to pry the creature's claws from Sam's shoulder and pushed his brother towards John. "Shoot it Dad!" Dean nearly screamed in his urgency to get rid of the beast in the room.

Not quite understanding what Dean wanted him to shoot; John left his judgment up to his son and fired the rock salt, drowning out Sam's pleas to not shoot Santa.

The small family stood in stunned silence, salt settling down onto the side of the tree, making it look as if they recently brought the decoration in from the elements.

"Dean, what was that?"


	2. Coal, it's What's for Presents

Hmmm, so I like the beginning of this one, but not sure if I like the rest of it. Ah well.

This is for the theme Coal, enjoy and review!

I don't own Supernatural, but it made up most of my Christmas list this year!

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Coal, it's what's for presents 

It was small, black and left a powdery trail on his fingers when he touched it. He knew what it was, a small briquette of coal; what he didn't know was what it was doing in his boot.

Dean held the small black bit of carbon between his fingers, glancing from it to Sam's sleeping form and back again. It was earlier in the morning than he cared to think about, but he had a mission to accomplish before the sun made its solemn way across this holiest of consumerist holidays.

Dropping the briquette onto his night table, Dean slid his boots on the rest of the way and tiptoed towards the door. He continued to make furtive glances back towards his brother, the successful completion of this mission relied on Dean's ability to sneak out without Sam waking up. Contradictory to years previous, Dean had not waited to get Sam his present until Christmas Eve/ Morning. He just hid it at Bobby's place while they were in town. It would not do to have Sam discover his present, specifically after Sam laid down the rule that they were not to get anything for each other this year.

His preoccupation with watching his brother for any sudden movements meant that Dean didn't see anything that was in front of him. With a muffled curse Dean tripped in the doorway. "What the hell…"

Glancing down at his feet, Dean saw they were entangled around a large and bagged rock. Or at least that's what it felt like.

He pulled himself off the bag, glancing at it only long enough to see that it was full of coal, before staring back towards his brother's bed. He didn't think he would ever be able to come up with an adequate explanation for Sam if his brother were to wake up now.

No movement detected.

Dean pushed the bag of coal into the room, silently closing the door behind himself.

Free at last, Dean almost ran to his car, sliding the key in the lock and pulling the driver's side door open. For once his Christmas plan was working as it hadn't since Sam discovered that it was Dean who put all the presents under the tree.

It stared up at him from the seat, almost mocking him with its cute, little red bow on top. "I can't believe this…" Dean scooped up the offensive rock and tossed it, bow and all onto the parking lot. This coal thing was starting to get on his nerves. Eyes narrowing, Dean hoped that the sound of the engine turning over wouldn't wake Sam.

* * *

Pulling into Bobby's yard, Dean cruised to the hiding spot, not a piece of coal in sight. 

He lifted the package for Sam into the Impala and froze. Something was wrong, he might have wrapped this thing a few months ago, but he was certain that this was not the wrapping paper he used. Turning the box in his hands, Dean noticed the envelope addressed to him slipped underneath the ribbon.

Dean was greeted by Sam's tiny and precise handwriting. The note was simple and to the point, simply saying, "It's naughty to ignore your brother's wish for no presents this year. Merry Christmas."

Glaring at the note Dean laid it down on the seat next to himself as he set about opening the gift. Opening the package, Dean wondered what Sam had done with the hidden gift, if he took it back….

His eyes met the sight of a box full of coal, each individually tied with a little red bow, though many had become crushed. A glint of silver among the black pulled Dean's attention to the barely of something buried amongst the bits of carbon.

By the time Dean got the gun Sam bought him uncovered, his hands were black with coal dust.


	3. Deany the Snowman

Here is my submission for the theme of Snowman! Enjoy and review!

I own neither Supernatural nor Frosty the Snowman...

* * *

Dean-y the Snowman

Dean-y the Snowman  
Was a strong and happy hunter  
With a leather jacket and rock salt gun  
And a brother's name of Sam

Dean-y the Snowman  
Was cursed by a witch one day  
He was turned to snow  
Cause the witch did know  
How to work her spells sans toads

She must have had some magic  
In that large unfriendly book  
For when she said the magic words  
Dean began to change

Dean-y the Snowman  
Was alive as he could be  
And Sam does say  
He still fought and slayed  
The witch just the same

Dean-y the Snowman  
Knew the witch called fire, hot  
So he said let's run  
And he grabbed his gun  
Before he could melt away

Down to the motel  
With rock salt gun in hand  
Hiding inside first  
And then back outside  
Fearing heaters and melting

He led the witch on a chase  
Right to his brother's trap  
He only paused a moment when  
Sam did holler stop

Dean-y the Snowman  
Caught the witch that day  
She turned him back  
With a warning that  
She'd be back again some day


	4. Where do Elves Come From

Here is my submission for number 17, Elves! Here we have a look into Dean's subconscious mind... or something

Thanks to my one reviewer for leaving comments, come on people, I know you are reading it, lets get some reviews going or something.

I don't own them... sigh...

* * *

Where do Elves Come From?

"Dean, Dean, I know you've been a naughty boy."

The voice was harsh, terrifying in the intensity of the anger and disappointment contained within it. "You know what happens to perpetually naughty boys on Christmas Dean?"

"They get coal?" Even at the age of 26 Dean still found himself powerless to deny his actions to this man. Where ever he got his interrogation training, Dean thought, the police should be made aware cause this guy was good.

"No, Dean. Perpetually naughty people do not get coal. Those who have proven themselves to be habitually naughty must be dealt with in a far more heavy handed manner than mere coal."

Dean swallowed audibly, he didn't like where this conversation was headed.

"Come along Dean, face your Christmas vengeance like a man."

Finding it impossible to disobey, Dean followed the man in red to face his punishment.

"Hey, Dean, come on man, wake up!" It was like an earthquake or something, how hard Sam was shaking him.

"Wha?" Dean sat up, blearily rubbing at his eyes.

"You were having a nightmare, a pretty bad one at that. You were thrashing around in bed like something was trying to kill you," Sam's brown eyes were full of concern.

"It was nothin', man. Probably just something I ate," Dean shrugged Sam's worry away.

Sam sighed and went back to his own bed, turning the light off as he went by.

"Hey, Sam?" Dean queried, his nocturnal fears returning with the dark.

"What?"

"Where d'you think Santa gets so many elves?"


	5. Eggnoggery

This one is for the theme number 22, eggnog.

Drunk Sam is always a fun Sam.

I don't own them, or Celine Dion's song...

* * *

Eggnoggery

It was terrible, the sounds coming from the stage were like a goose being run over while it was in the middle of swallowing broken light bulbs.

Dean shuddered and turned away from the stage. For now he would pretend that his brother wasn't the one on stage doing a bad rendition of Celine Dion's _River Deep, Mountain High_, with a girl who was dressed in not nearly enough clothing for the weather, she seemed to be enjoying Sam's company though. Who knew his brother would take to rum and eggnog like a fish immerses itself in water.

For his part, Dean couldn't really stand the stuff, it made him gag. One glass was okay, but if he stopped to think about what he was drinking, really examine it, the eggnog was more likely to come back for revenge.

Sam seemed to enjoy it though. At least Dean would be able to tell him he met a really hot chick, not that Sam would remember her.


	6. Candy Canes are Bad For the Brain

This is for theme number 15, Candy Canes

It kinda continues on from elves... so beware! Hey all, I need some reviews to know that you guys like it or something, to let me know if I should continue posting. My one reviewer is getting kinda lonely all by herself :(

I don't own them... and yes, I am expecting coal for this. Really I am...

* * *

Candy Canes are Bad For the Brain. 

His arms were tied, no matter how hard he struggled; he couldn't remove himself from the bright wrapping paper bows constricting him. "It's only fair, Dean, it's what you deserve."

The sound of machinery above Dean's head drew his attention, but the bows refused to let him move so that he could see what it was exactly. "Wait, wait, man, I mean, Santa. I can't have been that bad!"

Glaring at Dean, the man in red pulled at another lever, bringing the whirring machine into Dean's view. Red and white stripes spinning in circles opposite of each other slowed their revolution long enough for Dean to tell that there were two candy canes attached to the contraption.

"Not that bad? What about the itching powder in your brother's underwear? Hmm?"

"I can explain that!" The machine moved closer to Dean's face, he wasn't exactly sure what a pair of canes made from hardened sugar could do, but he really didn't want to find out. "I only did that because he messed with my car, I swear! Why am I the only one being put on trial here?"

Dean was desperate, and he honestly did wonder why Sam wasn't here too, they pranked each other the same amount, sometimes.

"Dean, you put Nair in Sam's shampoo. He was at a delicate age."

"And so was I! I wouldn't do anything like that again, I am much more mature!" Dean hoped that Santa didn't know about Dean's recent thoughts of putting sneezing powder in Sam's soup as the twirling candy canes drew closer to his face.

"You've had your chance Dean." Santa pulled the last lever and Dean knew blackness.

* * *

The toys, they were all that mattered now. The elf formerly known as Dean didn't remember anything about monsters and ghouls or things that went bump in the night. The toys, those were his life now.

Santa smiled at his new employee, he was working out fine. So long as you didn't show him any candy canes, that would send the poor elf into fits. Apparently Santa's elf maker needed a tune up, it wasn't clearing out as much of the brain as it used to if Dean could still remember even that much.

* * *

Gasping for air Dean sat up in bed, green eyes wide and staring for any sign of a workshop or a man in red. He could still smell the peppermint in his nose and no longer had the urge to prank Sam, at least not for a while. 


End file.
